For the Better
by Lee Savage
Summary: Going, going, gone, and maybe he can't hurt anybody anymore.


Disclaimer: Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go! belongs to Ciro Neili.

Author's Note: There are spoilers present from season four, or more specifically, the episodes "Object of Hate" and "Soul of Evil." Soooo, on the MSMF boards I remember this was requested by . . . somebody . . . a few years ago . . . but this computer died, so the rough draft went with it until the computer was fixed. :|

I apologize for emo Sprx, though. Kinda difficult to imagine the guy down in the dumps (and after years of not seeing the show, bleh).

* * *

**For the Better**

* * *

Sprx despises blindness; of course, that's been established. He may not loathe it, perhaps, quite as much as he loathes himself right now.

Back when that fire o' hate rigmarole went down, the red monkey couldn't see. Nope. Not Otto's snarl. Not the pleading. Nova's tears . . . .

Where Sprx resides, in a wailing cradle, there's no light. It's like a bottomless abyss, maybe—not that Sprx peruses those in his spare time.

(Not his style, really, when there's better things to peruse.)

There's no stars, but the darkness seems to stretch forever into nothingness. Bleak, empty infinity 'til the point of creation.

It's hopeless. Why even try to fight it? Sprx remembers this darkness—or somethin' _like _this darkness: The darkness of a mother's womb; the darkness of his master's goodbye; the darkness of the encroaching evil skittering through his innards until there's just a _go, go, gone_. A mish mash of oblivion and a smattering of muted whispers.

Something else's just gonna happen.

So . . . what's the point?

Once again, the red simian fumbled and made himself look like an idiot. A _buffoon._ Hey, what's new?

Hopeless like the evil he succumbed to, as he lays in his room of red and makeshift ship models—yet another abandoned fancy. Oh yeah, and Captain Mobius Quint posters. Ha, that went down well, didn't it, genius?

But, heh, who cares?

(Maybe those that visit you, dummy.)

When Sprx was—was _bad_, he couldn't see. Nothing. But no—something, something, some remnant of good ol' nonchalant SPRX-77 dwelled somewhere, lounging about, chasing pretty ladies or cracking a joke, oblivious inside the deadening prison. It just didn't care to try to come out of hiding and escape. Didn't care.

Help.

Save the day.

Who tries to help the heroes, anyway? It craved its own apathy. Finally. Something would just come 'n make everything worse, anyway.

Mandarin says, _Self-pity gets you nowhere; it gets this team nowhere. You_—_are_—useless_._

For once, Sprx can't retort. Can't chuckle. Can't even crack a grin to say to Mandarin those majestic words: You Can't Hurt Me.

You Can't _Win_.

Not even a particular gesture with a hand that commonly suggests disrespect toward another's suggestions.

Nothing.

Can't win.

Ha, Sprx the Winner. Sprx the Sore Loser. What happened, bud?

Antauri, as he used to appear, whispers, _I will concede to Mandarin's criticisms, for once: I'd advise that you not dwell on what could have been; you'll only destroy yourself._

For once.

Antauri. Yep, good ol' wise, altruistic, can't-do-a-monkey-doodlin'-thing-wrong-for-once Antauri and his sage advice.

This time, the red simian smiles at these manifestations. A mirthless smile. And he chuckles, and even babbles a myriad of black and gray thoughts. Sprx tells the abyss that, hey, wouldn't destruction be just swell?

For the better.

For the better, Sprx leaves.

For the better—for once, the simian almost, almost thinks his sorry hide is as altruistic as Antauri's silver hide.

For once, Sprx almost, almost cries. Sorry, sorry guys.

Nova? What—what'sa matter with him? What? His fault—all his fault! Tears, death—oh man—he almost killed Nova. Almost, only counting in horseshoes and hand grenades. Or atomic bombs. But, oh, well—wasn't that enough? Her, Nova! Really, Sprx? Not enough, oh no. It wasn't enough to scare her, man, but y'hadda hurt her, torture her, almost k—

_Wake up._

Scared. T-Them: Otto, Gibson, Chiro, Antauri. Always perfect Antauri. Looking at him like a formless enemy, for Shuggazoom's sake. Mandarin, somewhere in a burning fury, laughin' and laughin' and laughin'.

_You'll only destroy yourself._

_Only?_

Selfish, irritating, isn't it? But Sprx can't help but chuckle too, along with his ex-leader. Go, go gone, and maybe he can't hurt anybody anymore.

_And Nova cries and cries and cries and what have I done?_

For the better, his team follows his trail.

_Wake up!_

And, for once, through the hair-pulling and nail-grinding amongst his friends, Sprx still can't see.

* * *

Author's Note: Aaaaand it only took three years! :B This was originally gonna be two oneshots, but the subject matter was so similar (i.e. Sprx whining) that I combined it.


End file.
